Robin Cicchetti dived into life, love, and literature
“She was not somebody to just go into her job and go home; she really did everything to kind of make a difference.”
At her memorial service, Robin Cicchetti’s son, Chase, shared poetic notes his mom left in the margins of her favorite book, “Waterlog: A Swimmer’s Journey Through Britain” by Roger Deakin.
“Our lovely place on earth. Swimming in the great pond is a profound gift. The water is pristine. When you dive in, your life becomes about breath and stroke,” he read. It was a description of one of her favorite places, White Pond.
The words were a reminder of two of Robin’s passions: swimming and a good book.
Many knew Robin, who passed away June 9 from uveal melanoma at age 64, as Acton-Carlisle High School’s librarian and a widely respected educator.
“Waterlog” was a story she often returned to, and one she regularly recommended, Robin’s husband, Claude, said in an interview with The Acton Bridge.
“It was a book that she gave out as a gift,” he said. “We bought a number of copies and gave it out to a number of people.”
Robin loved sharing good stories, whether through reading a bedtime tale or performing in the theater. Her passion for storytelling wasn’t confined to any one medium — it was something she wove into her life, Claude said.
Over nearly two decades at the high school — and eight years before that at Willard Elementary School — local educators say Robin championed equitable access to reading, pioneered new programs, and helped redefine the library as an inclusive space where students felt safe.
But some, like those lucky few who got a copy of “Waterlog,” knew that Robin’s passions went beyond her job and books.
“She was not somebody to just go into her job and go home,” Claude said. “She really did everything to kind of make a difference.”
An ‘extended honeymoon’
Robin and Claude met during a summer job — he worked in publicity, she in the box office — at the Falmouth Playhouse on Cape Cod in 1980. Claude, enamored of her wit and charm, invited her to see a movie. They clicked immediately.
“We were chatting so much in the car, Robin joked that we better stop, that we’re gonna run out of things to talk about,” Claude said. “And you know, 45 years later, we never ran out of things to talk about.”
The two married in 1984 and moved abroad the following year. They lived in Germany, the United Kingdom, and Switzerland and traveled widely, spending a Christmas in Moscow and visiting both East and West Berlin.
“We kind of looked at that first decade together as a very extended honeymoon,” Claude said.
Robin embraced each place they lived — volunteering, building connections, and even helping establish a children’s library in London.
They returned to the United States in 1996. As they searched for a new home, Robin wanted a spot where she could sit outside with her tea and feel completely at ease. Their children had a different wish: a secret passage.
It seemed like a tall order. But while touring a house in Acton with a private patio perfect for Robin, the real estate agent pointed out a staircase that pulled back to reveal a small hidden basement. It was the perfect fit.
Not a stuffy place
Robin found her stride in Acton’s schools, where she was regularly seen helping students cultivate a passion for reading.
CCHS co-Principal Brian Miller’s desk had a perfect view of the library. One day, he looked up to see dozens of paper airplanes flying through the air.
“I went over to see what was happening, and she said, ‘Oh, it’s just a competition,’” Miller recalled in a conversation with The Bridge. “She didn’t want the library to be this stuffy place. This was meant to be a place of connection and support.”
At Willard, Robin once noticed a student carrying around a Harry Potter book. His classmates were reading it together, and though he couldn’t read well yet, he kept the book with him just to feel included. Robin gave him the audiobook version so he could follow along and be part of the group.
When she later shared the story with the Acton Education Fund, Claude said, “There was not a dry eye in the room.”
Clary Bestor-Williams, one of Robin’s close friends (and a “Waterlog” recipient), remembers how Robin would talk about her students — at Acton and at her other job teaching media literacy at Salem State University — while they swam together.
“She always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt,” Bestor-Williams said.
Taking the plunge
When she wasn’t working or deep in another book, Robin was swimming, and there was one place she enjoyed most.
Bestor-Williams recalls how almost every summer day, the two would make their way to White Pond at 7 a.m. Robin would pack items like a buoy bubble and a rubber ducky with a thermometer on it — a tip she learned from “Waterlog” — and they would swim.
And for New Year’s Day 2022, Robin got a wild idea — one that she was so passionate about that Bestor-Williams knew she couldn’t say no. Robin wanted to take a “polar dip” in White Pond. So, on a 30-degree day, the two jumped in.
“She came out so giddy,” Bestor-Williams remembered.
The two continued to swim together until the end of Robin’s life.
Bestor-Williams said she still swims at that, as Robin called it, “lovely place on Earth.”
“It was really hard for me to go back and get into the water. But I thought I should keep going because she would want us to continue to enjoy it,” Bestor-Williams said. “Because whatever journey she is on now, I bet it also has beautiful water.”
